


my own self

by cl0wnf11sh



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Mutual dumbassery, fae are a lot less scary when you know how to deal with them and you don't fear death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl0wnf11sh/pseuds/cl0wnf11sh
Summary: A fae prince has been causing trouble for people around Rose's town, seemingly unaware of the fact that some humans are now quite capable of defending themselves.





	my own self

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thescyfychannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/gifts).



> this was supposed to be shorter, god dammit. this is for a swap i participated in- more specifically the wonderful scy, who requested a fae AU!

At first, Rose thinks all this talk is just the work of a particularly incensed brownie, or possibly a poltergeist that's been mistaken for one of the fae. 

It's not like the mistake hasn't been made before. The people in the town know about them, of course, even if they don't like to talk about them much (even saying things like the Fair Folk is too blatant anymore, so they speak of the _lovely ones_ and _good neighbors_ or things like that), but Rose is the one they come to when the old tricks don't work. Sometimes, keeping your eyes down and saying either the right things or nothing at all isn't the only solution. 

Sometimes, ancient problems require modern solutions, and if she's going to get anywhere with this, she's got to find out what sort of beastie is causing trouble.

Leaning back in her desk chair, she watches the webcam she's got aiming at her cozy back porch, the gloaming sky still shedding dim light over the bare branches of the woods. Sitting at the top of the steps is a dish full of bright cream, a gift from a local dairy farm for dealing with their boggart infestation last year. She barely has to pay for groceries, nowadays. 

It doesn't take long at all. This one's new, so it won't know to stay away. Night's barely fallen when she sees a shape, tall and graceful and obviously inhuman, loping towards her back door. When it gets close enough to identify, though, she nearly spews chamomile all over her desktop, back straightening at the sight.

The creature creeping up her back door isn't a brownie, or a sprite, or any middling courtfae. Peering down at the dish of cream is a prince, resplendent in winter colors, looking like he would be much more at home sprawled out across a bed of heather and gorse, and not on her back stoop. 

She has to try very hard not to laugh out loud when he bends at the waist and starts to lap up the cream like a cat. He looks young, for a fae- she knows, of course, that the way they look has absolutely no bearing on how old they actually are, but she's sure this has to be his idea of a teenage rebellion, running around the countryside hexing farm animals and sending people into fits of terror like some common wisp. If he's not new, he must have been away from mortals for a long, long time. With the lack of wariness, he doesn't seem to have realized how much humans have changed, or how much more they know now.

Ideas start to bloom in her head, foolhardy and exciting, and she grins wide.

 

The next night, her door is open, and warm light spills out onto the porch. The prince is back the next night, but this time, he climbs the steps instead. Curious, or seeing the opportunity for more mischief, or maybe both, still oozing confidence. He throws up a glamor, this time, but it really doesn't help much. His cheeks are still too sharp, his eyes too shining, his teeth and fingers all wrong. Altogether too beautiful.

Rose is sitting in a nice armchair near the fire, knitting, like the most cliche maiden about to be terrorized by some terrifying otherworldly rake. She pretends that she hasn't noticed him yet, and tries hard not to smile at the idea of putting him in some oversized mason jar with some twigs and pulled-up grass. 

"You know, it's quite dangerous to leave your door open like that, fair miss." His voice is wrong, too, in a way that makes an interesting shiver go down her spine. Maybe she really doesn't have any preservation instincts. She acts startled, for a moment, when she looks up to see him, before lowering her eyes again- as if out of respect, or shyness, instead of the fact that looking at his smug face for too long would probably make her burst out in laughter. 

"Oh, well, I was expecting someone, but they never showed up. I am wanting for company, though- could you stay for an hour or two, noble sir?" The way his face lights up with a cruel grin- he has less wariness then she does, thinking that it would be that easy. Or that humans still talk like that around here. "What a gracious offer, miss. Of course I will."

The prince doesn't notice that anything's wrong until he sits in the indicated chair and abruptly realizes that it's made of rowan wood. Before he can shoot to his feet, Rose is already moving, throwing a loop of iron chain over his head in a practiced motion. He winces, before his too-pretty face twists in rage as he realizes that it's made a neat circle about his feet. He tries to cross it anyway (of course he does) before flinching back with a noise of outrage.

Rose takes the moment, self-indulgently, to stand and admire her captured fae as his glamour melts away. His skin is an ashen mauve, while the inside of his mouth and his angrily-mussed hair share the same charcoal-grey shade. His eyes look like smashed blackberries on stone. If she didn't care about her fingers, she'd probably reach out and pinch his cheek. 

"What exactly is the meeting of this, you foolish, grasping little _human?_ " His words are hissing with indignation, and she can only smirk wider. "I've been needing to talk to you, and I wanted to make sure you wouldn't run off halfway through." 

The prince is not satisfied with this answer. His back straightens, and he gnashes his cat's teeth. "You will live to regret this a thousandfold, I swear to you. Just- just _wait_ until my handmaidens hear about this, I'll have you ripped to bits, I'll have your tendons for a lyre-" The prince's words stumble to a stop as Rose pulls out a shining iron knife and twirls it around her fingers. Those dumb, sparkly anime eyes of his dart over her, starting to notice the charms and protection-sigil tattoos that he hadn't picked up before. "You're being so _rude!_ I thought you were my guest! For shame, really. Now, I'm going to give you a talk about respecting people's property, and then we're going to make some _deals._ "

He sneers at her again, but there's a hint of fear in his expression. "You're a conniving wench." Definitely fear, and... something else. Fear and something else. Hmm. She'll have to file that away for later. "That's very nice of you. Now. It would only be polite of you to take your seat."

 

She lets him go early that morning. People's milk stops going sour, and their ladders stop collapsing under them. That evening, he's back for more.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, i'm unbeta'd, so please leave a comment if you see a typo or if you just like the work!


End file.
